


Tangled Souls

by taecheeks



Series: Flash Fic Comms [9]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, Love at First Sight, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22087867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taecheeks/pseuds/taecheeks
Summary: “Careful with such foolish words. Those after your heart are lurking around and will not hesitate to take that sword of yours and make it so if they cannot have it, not even you can.”Seungcheol presses his cheek into the stone. “I do not care who hears it, Hansol. My heart has already been given away. Even if it no longer beats, it will belong to him.”
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Series: Flash Fic Comms [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1510175
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	Tangled Souls

**Author's Note:**

> This is for [Dreamy](http://twitter.com/croptopscoups) whomst I loveth with my entireth heart.
> 
> I don't know how to write poetically and I attempted a bit with the dialogue so I'm sorry if it isn't alright haha. 
> 
> The italicized dialogue is a direct quote from the movie this is inspired by (Romeo and Juliet, 1996) and not mine.

There is a ballad playing overhead. Some soft crooning about the strength of love and coming together because Count Paris has it in his mind to do just that tonight. There have been murmurings about his intentions of marrying the youngest of the Lee Clan to buffer the animosity and war that has grown between the three biggest Houses in Seoul. Some of the gossip is louder than the music that plays overhead, though anyone caught will deny it. 

Seungcheol isn’t one for gossip. He’s slipped away to a different corridor to get himself away from it. Hopefully. It’s been in his ears ever since the brawl. Weeks now. His bruises have faded from the fight, yet the conversation has not faded from the streets of Seoul. The conversation that has done nothing more but to add to the tension surrounding the Houses, and Seungcheol is afraid it will come to a point where another brawl pursues despite the punishments they have been threatened with.

Metal clinks as he moves around the corner, the music softening into a distant hum. His footsteps sound heavy even if he’s walking tentatively, the boots he’s chosen for his costume thick and clunky. His entire self feels clunky in the suit of armor, metal around his thick shoulders and a chained vest hanging heavy over his torso. 

His attire collects the lights from around him, which are dimmed and mix in with the crooning to create a soft atmosphere. A perfect atmosphere to fall in love, Seungcheol thinks in bemusement. 

Despite his dislike for marriage for political purposes, Seungcheol loves love. The bond between two people who have given their lives to each other, or more like - two souls twisting together until they become too tangled to tell apart.

Some call him a romantic. They might be right. Seungcheol has never been in love, but he has read enough novels to know the feeling, the idea of the feeling. It is what he craves, what he thinks should be the true reason people marry.

And not because the Ruling House wants to calm a feud between two clans. A feud that no marriage can truly dissolve. 

Seungcheol steps into the corridor leading to the bathroom, falling pleased as he sees how empty it is. There is a soft glow across the stone walls, a mix of cool, dancing hues. Strobes of light that dance slowly like waves slowly coming up to shore, like they’re trying to dance to the song of everlasting love.

The left side of the corridor is covered in a fish tank separating the room from the rest of the crowd. It stretches from the height of his waist to the ceiling, the lights from the party shining through the water to create the dancing lights. Seungcheol takes a step up to it, head cocked to the side as he takes in the hundreds of fish that aimlessly move by.

Exotic fish that Seungcheol couldn’t even try to name. An array of colors and sizes, some small enough to disappear behind the tall plants inside, some too big but try to hide anyway.

Seungcheol thinks of himself, amused. He is a bit too big to hide so easily, but he is trying to now. Someone will soon come looking for him, dragging him off into the crowd of dancing, costume covered bodies. Even if he were to hide behind one of the big statues he has tried to dress like tonight, his shoulders are too wide, and he is too tall. A gift when it comes to fighting, but a curse when it comes to his need for solitude. 

He sighs at the thought, watching as a fish disappears into a hole in a rock near the bottom. Maybe he could slip out, find a book about love to bury himself into instead.

This is maybe why he has never fallen in love. Too busy hiding himself away or fighting beside his Clan, the Chois, against the Lee’s.

Even more amusement fills him at the prospect that his true love could be a Lee. How tragic and ironic would it be if Seungcheol’s sliced his one true love with the sword that now clings to his side. It would be his kind of luck. A hopeless romantic with a heart that is too big to fit in his already quite large of a chest, desperate for love and killing it before it can happen. 

Thoughts of hiding and disappearing slip from his mind as his eyes travel over the tank, finding a face. Thoughts turn into true love and beauty and every romantic thing Seungcheol has ever read, and there is no amusement accompanying it this time. 

It isn’t a big world shifting event, but it’s enough to punch the breath from Seungcheol’s chest and make him inch closer to the tank until he can feel the cool of it against his skin.

There is a face on the other side, a beautiful face that is slightly distorted by the movement of the water. Those soft strobes of cool hues on his pale skin while powerful seem dim when compared to the glow in his eyes.

Slitted, heavy looking eyes that widen when they find Seungcheol. It doesn’t take away from his sharp look, so sharp it feels as if Seungcheol is being the one sliced now.

Sharp jaw, cheekbones, eyes. The man reaches up, fingers touching against the other side of the fish tank and Seungcheol follows suit.

The man moves to the left, and Seungcheol follows, pushing up in his attempts to look around the thick plants between them. The man is shorter than him, and Seungcheol ducks a few feet down as if that can help him see better.

The man scowls at him. It makes Seungcheol smile, the corners of his mouth pulling hard until they are shoving up into his cheeks. He plants himself to the cold glass, the metal of his armor clinking against it. His nose touches the glass, squishes against it, and the man almost smiles.

A twitch in his mouth, a little more of a glow in his eyes. The man schools it quickly, and Seungcheol finds a sudden determination inside of him to make it happen again. 

They move like there is a string between them, keeping them aligned on either side of the fish tank. Their souls have already connected, have already stretched out their arms to attempt to tangle into each other. Seungcheol knows it, curls his fingers into the glass when the man stops moving at the same time as himself.

Seungcheol considers rushing out of the corridor to go to the other side, but he is afraid of losing the man in the crowd. He can’t quite see what the man is wearing for a costume, though it is as white as his hair. An angel perhaps. Maybe that’s just what the man is, with or without the costume.

An emotion quite like panic fills him when the man moves back so he is no longer visible. Seungcheol shakes his head, fingers pushing into the glass as to shove off of it.

The metal of his suit clings louder, his footsteps heavier as he rushes out of the corridor and into the main room. There is a swarm of bodies and figures, some with masks over their faces and some with such lavish costumes that Seungcheol normally would worry he could accidentally destroy it by dodging between people so quickly, but he only has one thing on his mind.

It is a face he cannot forget. It has only been seconds, but Seungcheol knows the face will stay in his mind for minutes, hours, days - months. 

Just one look, a hand around his heart. Seungcheol is ready to give it to him.

Seungcheol presses against a pillar when he finally spots the man again. It is instant the way his mouth forms into a smile because the man is smiling too. A wide smile that shows off his sharp teeth. 

A smile he offers to Count Paris. It is a judging smile, one that comes right before a biting remark. The beautiful man is gesturing towards Paris’ astronaut outfit, and Seungcheol grins at the flash of offense on the Count’s face.

The grin doesn’t last long as Seungcheol watches Count Paris bow before bringing the man into his arms. He should not be dancing with another man when his goal is to woo the youngest of the Lee clan into marrying him. 

Unless -

Seungcheol laughs, shakes his head. It is impossible for a man so beautiful to be a Lee. He refuses to believe it. They have ugly, wicked souls. 

A shoulder bumps into his, but Seungcheol does not turn his attention away from the man because the man is looking at him from over the Count’s shoulder. There is that sharp look again, eyes heavy, and Seungcheol’s insides are tumbling.

He has read about it, so he knows. The feeling that comes with love at first sight. It is this feeling here, settling in his chest. A warm feeling, like the thickest of blankets tucked around a person nearly frozen from the winter air. 

“Why are you looking at the Count as if you mean to sweep his partner right from beneath him?”

Seungcheol looks to his companion, a man that has fought beside him for man years. Choi Hansol.

“My heart has not loved until now,” Seungcheol says, tilting his head as he curls his fingers around the pillar as if the sight of the beautiful man is enough to take the strength away from him.

Hansol laughs, a sound that reminds Seungcheol of the glittering lights in the bathroom. “Careful with such foolish words. Those after your heart are lurking around and will not hesitate to take that sword of yours and make it so if they cannot have it, not even you can.”

Seungcheol presses his cheek into the stone. He has a distaste for political marriages. Those after his heart are only that. He has shown his disinterest, as much to his own father’s dismay. “I do not care who hears it, Hansol. My heart has already been given away. Even if it no longer beats, it will belong to him.”

  
  
  
  


The music is faster now, a heavy thump, a furious beat. Bodies move quickly to it, shoving into each other without care. It’s perfect. The thick crowd lets Seungcheol blend, even if he is a head taller than most around him. 

The beautiful man is still with the Count, though he has stepped aside to watch as the Count laughs and jollies his way towards the front stage where the man who was once crooning about love is now belting out about it instead.

Seungcheol’s chest is a mess, like his heart is trying to break down his sternum. He reaches out, hesitating for only a moment before his gentle fingers capture the beautiful man’s wrist. 

The man whips around, eyes full of alarm until recognition takes over. He glances back to the Count, lips pressing into a thin line as Seungcheol gently urges him back until he can hide once again behind a pillar.

“I must say, the torches lighting this room do no justice to the way you shine.”

The beautiful man laughs. Seungcheol has succeeded in making him smile in a way that looks just as judgemental as he had looked when laughing at the Count’s costume. It only makes Seungcheol’s heart beat faster. 

“And I must say, that is a line that will not work with me,” the man counters.

Seungcheol cannot keep the smile from his face. “Tis not a line, but a start to a confession. A confession that I must admit before it bursts inside of me and shatters me apart.”

The beautiful man slips around the pillar with him. “And what is this confession?”

“I have realized tonight that I have never seen anything beautiful before,” Seungcheol admits, fingers grazing over the man’s wrist before he lets go though he does not want to. “For you make anything I once thought to be beautiful seem ugly.”

Another laugh. Seungcheol wishes he could shut off the music to hear it better. “If this has worked for you before, I must tell you it will not tonight.”

Seungcheol is not discouraged. He cannot be with the way the man follows after him like that string is still keeping them connected, following him until they are truly away from the crowd. 

“I have not used it before,” Seungcheol tells him, speaking quietly now that he can. “As I have not met anyone beautiful enough to say it to.”

The man’s eyes close for a moment before his head ticks off to the side. He might believe Seungcheol to be a liar, but it is the most truthful statement that has ever left Seungcheol’s lips. “There are many beautiful people in this room.”

“If there are, I have not seen as for I only have eyes for you.”

The smile on the man’s face softens. There are few inches between them but they feel like miles.

“Many men have eyes for me,” the man says, confidence radiating from him. “Including the man you just took me away from.” 

“I am a sinful man,” Seungcheol admits, ducking his head down as if in shame. The possibility of the beautiful man being a Lee, more specifically the youngest of the Clan, is one that Seungcheol cannot deny. His past self, from a mere hour ago, would scoff at how greatly Seungcheol wishes to interrupt their banter with a kiss. “And you, a saint. I wish to ask you help absolve me of my sins.”

The beautiful man bites into his bottom lip, eyes lighting up once more. “I am no saint.”

“An angel then,” Seungcheol replies quickly, wishing to reach out and stroke the blinding white costume the man wears. The wings on the back are small, but enough that the tips peek out from over his shoulders. 

The man presses his lips together in amusement. He takes a step forward, touching lightly at the metal plate around Seungcheol’s shoulder. “Can an angel absolve you of your sins the way a saint can?”

“Oh yes,” Seungcheol confirms confidently. “It is said that with a kiss from an angel, a man filled with sin like I will be given chance once more to become a holy man.”

The man’s lips part for a moment, his eyes trailing over Seungcheol’s face. Heat warms it’s way through Seungcheol, his heart moving so fast now that he is sure it will break out through his chest and runaway. It is like a horse galloping across a massive field for the first time. 

“You do not look like a holy man,” the man chides gently, fingers trailing down Seungcheol’s arm until it grazes over the sword at his hip.

Love makes one a fool, Seungcheol thinks. It would be easy for the man to take the sword from him, pin him back against the wall like a Lee might crave to do to a Choi, but Seungcheol makes no move to stop him.

“It is the sin,” Seungcheol reminds him.

Another laugh and the beautiful man is cupping Seungcheol’s cheek, fingers stroking over his skin like the light that had touched the bathroom’s corridors. “Take your kiss then.”

It feels less like absolution and more like sinning again when Seungcheol ducks forward to graze his parted lips over the corner of the angel’s mouth. A sin that Seungcheol would commit over and over again as he has no true desire to become a holy man.

It lasts a moment, a second. Time does not still, though Seungcheol wishes it would. He wishes he could take the man’s face between his palms and kiss his lips until his own are bruised and chapped. They could fall off, and Seungcheol would continue to try and kiss him with all of his might.

There is a soft smile on the man’s face when Seungcheol pulls back. He brushes a thumb over Seungcheol’s cheekbone.

“ _ Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged _ ,” Seungcheol whispers, already craving a second kiss. He wishes to drink wine and stain the man’s mouth with his own so for when they part, it will be as if Seungcheol’s lips are still upon his. 

The man’s eyes widen ever so slightly, an act that would worry Seungcheol if it were not for the amusement residing in them. “ _ Then have my lips the sin that they have took _ ?”

An angel touched by sin, maybe Seungcheol is more sinful than he thought. He reaches out, swiping his thumb beneath the man’s bottom lip. “ _ Give me my sin again _ .”

The second time their lips meet, Seungcheol’s slide away from the corner of the man’s mouth to settle in the middle. He presses down, wishing to know if those lips look as soft as they feel. If their lips will connect and tangle as smoothly as their souls have. 

A hand cups the back of Seungcheol’s neck, keeping him there a moment longer than before. It is the beautiful man that pulls away first, looking up at Seungcheol with those bright eyes of his.

As luck may have it, their solitude does not last much longer after they have parted. The beautiful man’s touch leaves him as a woman approaches, the distance between their bodies growing. 

“Come now, come now. Your father has been searching for you,” the woman nags, her tone hurried as she waves her hands at the beautiful man.

It is sudden and quick how the beautiful man’s face falls into one of annoyance. He glances back at Seungcheol, reaching up to touch his own lips like a farewell kiss he cannot give him in the presence of another.

There is a tug inside of him that has Seungcheol aching to reach out for him once more, but he does not. He watches as the beautiful man leaves without word, without telling Seungcheol how he can find him again, without his name.

A name Seungcheol must know so he can become like one of the poets he reads so often about, putting his words of love for the beautiful man onto parchment and spreading it across the city, across lands. 

“Pardon me, m’am, would you perhaps tell me that man’s name?”

The woman looks startled and confused as she glances between where the man had departed and Seungcheol. She presses a hand to her chest, looking over Seungcheol as if she knows how sinful he is. “Why that is Lee Jihoon.”

There is a moment that Seungcheol had considered the possibility of his heart’s desire being a Lee, and that it would be a fact he could accept. But with the truth of just who that beautiful man is has a heavy disappointment falling onto Seungcheol’s already weighed down shoulders.

The man Count Paris wishes to marry, the youngest of the Lee Clan. 

Anguish is another feeling he has not experienced before. Not like this. Not because of who the beautiful man is, but how difficult it will be to find him again. A Choi nosing around the Lee’s will cause alarm. 

“Thank you,” Seungcheol says, bowing his head in his gratitude. 

For the first time, Seungcheol understands the Count’s want to merge Houses for peace. As strong and stubborn as the feud between the Clans have been, it will stand no chance against Seungcheol’s quest to kiss his angel once more and take his hand in marriage.

The way marriage should be, because of the feeling shared between two tangled souls.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't wait to hear what you think!! I was excited to write jicheol for the first time as a main pairing.
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/taehcheeks)   
> [curiouscat](http://curiouscat.me/taetungie)  
> [tumblr](http://tumblr.com/taecheeks)


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